The Counsel of Ms Foster
by Artemis Day
Summary: Now that the date is done, Jane is going to need some advice from a good friend. Too bad all she has is Darcy Lewis. Meanwhile, Loki needs a little help of his own, whether he wants to admit it or not. Fourth in the Ms. Foster series. Lokane.


The end of day bell rang (which was to say it beeped; no public school used actual ringing bells anymore) and the students filed out of the room. The promise of an afternoon and evening without school drove them on, before tomorrow came and they did it all again. Jane watched them from her desk, where she'd been grading spelling tests for the last ten minutes while the kids had silent reading time. She had struggled a bit between correcting one student's mangling of 'multiply,' and watching her favorite set of triplets pour through large and ancient printings of classic novels that went well above the Great Illustrated Classics stuff.

At the sound of the bell, Hela crammed her copy of Wuthering Heights back into the bag and swatted Fenrir's hand so he would put down Journey to the Center of the Earth. They were the only ones left in the time it took Jane to blink. She'd been hoping at least one other kid would stay behind to ask her a question and give her a little more time to prepare, but no. Curse those small children and their energy…

They even had their bags packed in record time. They'd been doing everything quickly today, from sharpening pencils to finishing in-class assignments (not that that was anything new; why weren't they taking college classes again?), as if moving faster would make time go faster. She half expected Hela to jump out of her seat at any second and grab her around the leg, never letting go until Jane told her everything about the night before.

(And that brought her back to the ever fearsome question of just how much _Loki_ told them.)

When it was just them, they wasted no time. Jormungandr was barely able to mark his place in The Hound of the Baskervilles before Hela and Fenrir hoisted him up. They ran to Jane's desk wearing identical face splitting grins, and it looked for a moment like they wouldn't be able to stop before they collided with it.

"Good morning, Ms. Foster!" Their voices broke into high pitched squeals, and they seemed not to care that it was three in the afternoon.

"Er- hi, kids," Jane said, shifting in her seat. "I see your dad gave you my message."

"We wanted to see you anyway, Ms. Foster!" Hela exclaimed. "We want to hear all about how your date with our dad went."

"Yeah, and don't leave out all the good bits like Dad did," said Fenrir, crossing his arms over his chest. "According to him, all you guys did was talk and look at stars."

"I hope you enjoyed your time at the observatory, Ms. Foster," said Jormungandr excitedly. "That was my idea."

"Oh- well- yes, that was very sweet, Jormungandr." Jane covered her mouth as she coughed. "But I really wanted to tell you-"

"The name of your foster brother?"

"Yes- wait, _what?_"

_'He said he wouldn't tell them!' _Jane felt like her outrage should exude from her body all the way to whatever throne the jerk was sitting on right now.

"We didn't know you had a brother, Ms. Foster," said Hela, as if sensing her teacher's displeasure and working to appease her. "If we'd known, we would've started looking ages ago."

"It's not fair that you guys had to be separated like that," said Jormungandr.

"So long as he didn't grow up to be a crack addict or a convicted felon," said Fenrir.

"That wouldn't happen to Ms. Foster's brother. He'd have to be smarter than that."

"They're not biologically related, _Hela_."

"I know, _Fenrir_, I just think that good childhood influences would help to steer wards of the state away from lives of crime."

"Actually, experts speculate that the nature side of nature versus nurture is a stronger indicator of a person's behavioral patterns once they reach adulthood-"

"Um, guys?"

The three looked at Jane with their big eyed stares that had the potential to cow her if they kept it up.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Foster, we didn't mean to ignore you," said Hela.

"I know you didn't," Jane said. The trepidation that had been simmering inside of her for the last hour started to recede, and then the three were quite suddenly eye level with her. Jane jumped back. Their knees dug into the edge of her desk.

"So tell us about the date, Ms. Foster!"

"Did you go anywhere after the observatory?"

"Did Dad kiss you goodbye?"

"Do you know where you're going for your second date?"

"Did you talk to Dad about your plans and aspirations?"

"Was he supportive of your plans and aspirations?"

"Did he tell you the story about the time him and Uncle Thor cornered a beach thief in a Los Angeles movie theater and…"

The barrage of questions continued thus, and as Jane sunk lower and lower into her seat, they only came faster.

* * *

"Jane, I'm sorry, but you are the wimpiest wimp who ever wimped in the history of wimpdom."

Darcy told her this while drinking her third decaffeinated coffee of the day, while Jane's cappuccino sat ice cold on the squat end table on top of Jane's attendance book. She had kicked out her legs to make room for her shoulder bag. Space had been tight in the teacher's lounge ever since the new miracle Italian coffee machine had mysteriously arrived. It sat there, shining and golden, right in front of Jane, mocking her with its presence. If she looked at it from a certain angle, she could almost see Loki's smarmy, smirking face among the knobs and tubes.

The back room was occupied by the gym teacher, rummaging around for the spare air pump since before Darcy arrived. For some reason, those things were always getting lost, and Jane expected him to be at it for a while. That gave her all the time in the world to relate her wild story to the person who was for all intents and purposes her best friend.

Darcy proved as supportive as Jane expected.

"You know, I asked you here because I needed advice, not to be berated."

"You want my advice? Here it is: next time, don't be a wimp." Darcy threw back her head and drank down the rest of her decaf like it was vodka. Then she went back for more. With a fourth helping of the world's most depressingly wonderful coffee, Darcy returned with even more to say. "You're seriously telling me that in the last day and a half, you found out that those three Baby Einsteins you teach want you to play house with them, their dad is going along with it, he tricked you into a romantic night out, and then, after all that, you couldn't even lay down the law to said Baby Einsteins the next day and tell them you're through with house?"

"That's a very abridged version of what happened…"

"Yeah? Which part did I miss? The part where they had an art student super-impose your face over the Mona Lisa, or the part where Big Daddy reduced you to a speechless wreck with one kiss?"

Jane reached for her coffee and drank it down, heedless of the chill. She wondered if she wouldn't be better served finding new friends.

* * *

There was a long, open stretch of road between here and Main Street, so Loki didn't hesitate to answer the phone when a photo of the most happily idiotic individual he had ever known showed up on call I.D.

"Afternoon, brother," he said into his bluetooth. He glanced at the back seat through the rear view mirror. "Say hello to Uncle Thor, children."

"Hi, Uncle Thor!" three voices shouted back.

Thor chuckled on the other end. His hearing was impeccable as ever.

"Hello, kids! I hope you're not driving your father crazy over there."

"No, not too crazy," said Loki, making a turn onto the freeway.

"I just called to hear about your date last night, brother," said Thor.

The kids, also perfect of hearing, took deep, in unison breaths that Loki silenced with a well-placed glare. They sealed their lips shut and went back to watching whatever Pixar movie was playing on the backseat TV screen (from Fenrir's tears, it was probably Up).

"I thought I told you to wait until the weekend," Loki said, eyes returning to the road, and that one speed bump that always gave him a flat if he didn't swerve around it. "Anyway, I'm driving."

"And there is no one I know more skilled behind the wheel than you," said Thor, who sounded like he was lounging around at a day spa or whatever he did when him and his wife were done twisting people into knots at the gym. "Plus, you're not even using your hands right now, are you?"

Loki's eye twitched. "Perhaps…"

He could hear Thor cracking a grin. Stupid idiot.

"So, what happened with your new lady friend? Miss Forster, was it?"

"Foster," Loki said. "And as it was only a first date. There is no guarantee I'll get a second."

"You must give it time," said Thor, as if Loki didn't know that and hadn't planned it all out based exactly on that. "Your next date, I'm sure you'll sweep her right off her feet."

"Why do I feel like you're mocking me when you say that?"

Loki asked the question, more to himself than to Thor, as the road slowly filled up with cars, going in either direction depending on the lane.

* * *

"Okay, Jane, I have to ask you something."

Jane knew she wasn't going to like this. "Go ahead."

"Please understand that this is only because you're my friend and I love you."

"I understand."

Darcy gave Jane her most meaningful searching look. She took her by the hands and gazed into the depths of Jane's resigned eyes.

"Jane… are you dating the Fifty Shades guy?"

The lukewarm bit of coffee Jane had been attempting to swallow ended up on the rug.

_"What?!"_

"It's a serious question, Jane!" Darcy said like it actually was.

"Okay, first of all, no, I am not dating the Fifty Shades guy because that is a fictional character. Second… just- are you out of your mind?"

"No, you've just never struck me as the type to go gaga over someone all because of a kiss-"

"I am not 'gaga' over him. Have you listened to anything I've said this past twenty minutes at all?"

"-I mean, it must have been a really awesome kiss, but regardless, you're not exactly the 'tie me up, tie me down, spank me hard' kind of-"

_"Darcy!"_

Darcy threw up her hands and shook her head. Jane needed a minute for her revulsion to go down before she could speak again.

"Look, even if Mr. Odinson is a dominatrix or whatever the male version of that is supposed to be called-"

"I think it's just Dom."

"Whatever," Jane waved it off. "Even if that was the case, I am _not_ dating him. We just went on one date."

"And at no point during that one date did you think you might want to see him again."

"No."

"I don't believe you."

"Too bad."

"Your ears are red."

Jane blinked. "What does that mean?"

"It's your tell; it's how I know you're lying. I've been your friend long enough to know these things."

Jane whipped out her pocket mirror to examine ears that, to her eternal shame, were indeed a cherry shade of red. How had she gone over two and a half decades of her life without noticing that?

Good thing she had Darcy Lewis around!

"By the way, I saw your boyfriend on the cover of Forbes last week."

Jane was in the middle of another try at drinking her stale coffee, and her emotions were exhausted to the point where she couldn't be bothered to correct her.

"I didn't know you read Forbes," she said.

"I can read big important magazines, too, you know," Darcy said with her hands on her hips. "And it was right next to the soda machine at the supermarket."

"Uh-huh." Jane brought the cup to her lips. "And?"

"He's a devil worshiper."

Another coffee stain joined the first one.

"What?!"

"I'm sorry! I just refuse to believe anyone could be _that_ good looking without having made some kind of Faustian pact for hotness."

* * *

"Did you really not kiss her at the end? I don't believe it."

As far as Loki was concerned, there was only one thing more annoying than Thor in a good mood, and that was Thor in a good mood at his expense.

"Just because you slept with Sif on your first date doesn't mean everyone has to make their affections so blatant so fast."

"So you admit to having feelings for Ms. Foster?"

"I don't recall implying that I didn't."

Loki cast a quick glance at his kids, making sure they were all still quaking in fear of the idea of no second date. As always, they did not fail him, but he would probably have to spend a few hours calming Hela down when they got home. The poor thing was on the verge of tears.

"If you must call me anything, let it be 'aware of a woman's boundaries,'" Loki said. "Lord only knows how you managed to get Sif to marry you after following her around for a month like a lost puppy."

"I got her to marry me because I spent that month wooing her with my charm and grace."

It was a good thing the children couldn't hear this. Especially Fenrir. For once, he was happy to think they wouldn't inherit anything from that uncle of theirs.

"I thought Sif married you because she beat you at basketball, football, wrestling, volleyball-"

"No, no. The volleyball game was a tie. You should know that, Loki, you were the referee."

"And you grazed the net. She beat you. Accept it."

Thor sighed on the other end, and after a few moments that someone with brainpower would spend in quiet contemplation (Thor was probably just thinking about food), he chuckled.

"Well, I knew in the end that there was no one else in the world I'd rather lose to. That's why I married her."

"I think you'll find that your methods of courtship don't work so well for others." A man on a motorcycle appeared on Loki's right and kept a steady pace just ahead of him before changing lanes. Loki frowned. He'd never liked those things. "I don't plan to woo her by challenging her to a game of tennis."

"So what is your strategy?"

Loki looked straight ahead, away from the searching gazes of his children, and smiled.

* * *

"So what are you going to do now?"

Jane released the breath that she'd been holding and let her head fall forward. If Darcy was really as in tune with her body language and her tells as she claimed to be, she'd be able to translate that as _'I have no idea, and I want to end the conversation now, can you just put your headphones on and pretend I don't exist for a while?'_

Unfortunately, only the first half got through to Darcy.

"Well, all I know is that no one is going to gain anything from sitting around and worrying about a guy like some kind of angst-y teenager. Just look at it this way: even if you never see rich boy again, at least you're no longer sitting at the bar every night crying into your beer over losing Don."

Jane furrowed her brow. "I never did that."

"Denial is such a terrible thing." Darcy appeared to be off on another tangent. She wouldn't be back on earth until she either got distracted by something else or collapsed under the weight of her own personal grief. "Don't deny the pain of losing Don's love. Embrace it. Make it yours!"

"Darcy, I broke up with Don. He lost _my_ love."

In retrospect, Jane would argue that she never really loved Don to begin with. Those moments of offhand belittlement that had spelled the end for them really hadn't just come out of nowhere when she thought about it. He'd been doing it from the start. She'd just been swimming so deep in infatuation that she hadn't noticed it until the rose-colored glasses came off.

"Look, I'm trying to have a moment here," Darcy huffed, crossing her arms. Her coffee sloshed onto the cushion. "To think that you could have had the love of your life there in your arms one minute, only for him to turn around and tell you it's not working out the next."

And _there_ it was.

"I mean, I just don't understand it! What did I do wrong? Did I not spend enough time with him? Is it because I couldn't take time off from work to go with him when his grandma was dying? Was the sex not good enough?"

Darcy's pity party was interrupted quite abruptly (and thankfully on Jane's part) by the crashing of a box of old football uniforms to the floor. The man who dropped it stumbled out of the closet with a third place trophy in one hand as he swatted away a hanging lightbulb with the other. He ended up against the wall, the only thing keeping him from falling on his ass. He dropped the trophy and ran a hand over his head, knocking his baseball cap to the floor. He stooped to pick it up, catching sight of the two women staring at him for the first time.

"Oh!" He stood up straight like an army recruit. "Sorry about that. I'm still looking for the air pump."

"It's okay, Steve, take your time."

He smiled sheepishly before stepping back into the fray of the overcrowded broom closet. He made one giant step over the fallen box, his legs admittedly nice to look at in tight blue jeans. He usually only wore sweatpants.

Darcy certainly noticed; the way she stared after him like he was a hunk of meat out on display was unmistakable.

"Ja-ane," she sang, all thoughts of Ian forgotten for now, "who is that?"

Jane sighed and rolled her eyes. "That's Steve Rogers, the school gym teacher. He's a really sweet guy, and you are _not_ having rebound sex with him."

"Who says I was going to?"

"You were thinking about it."

"Was not."

"Personally, I think you were," said Coulson. He stuck his balding head into the doorway and nodded once at Jane. "The perimeter's been secured, Ms. Foster. You're free to head home whenever you're ready."

"Thanks, Coulson," Jane mumbled.

"What the hell was that?" Darcy asked once Coulson had disappeared to do whatever 'secret agent' stuff he did when not in Jane's presence.

She heaved another sigh, heavier than the last. "That was my new bodyguard. Mr. Odinson hired him."

Darcy whistled. "Oh Lord, you are in deeper than I thought."

This day was just getting better and better.

* * *

"I would think that continuing to play to her interests would be most wise at this juncture," Thor said.

Loki inclined his head, not that he was ever going to take dating advice from someone who proposed to his wife while she had him in a headlock.

"I have already taken her to the only observatory within a twenty mile radius. I can't just take her up in a spaceship for our next date."

"Why not? You have the money for it."

Trust Thor to treat everything like it's a simple conundrum with a simpler solution. He had no idea the time it took to get clearance for an untrained individual, let alone two, to procure a space shuttle and then obtain legal documentation from NASA to launch it. His children would be graying before that happened (Loki knew; he'd already made some calls). Unfortunately, money really couldn't buy everything.

And then that fool on the motorcycle cut in front of him again. This really wasn't Loki's day.

* * *

"I'm just saying it's only a matter of time before you start appearing newspapers and magazine covers. The headlines are going to be like: 'mysterious woman seen with sexy billionaire bachelor.' Then when it comes out that you're teaching his kids, they'll probably start making horrible teacher related puns like… like… well, I can't think of any at the moment, but it's going to happen!"

Every word out of Darcy's mouth had become one more throb of Jane's rapidly developing migraine, the one that had started with the kids bombarding her. She'd have to make a slight amendment to her earlier thought: she _definitely _needed new friends.

She never should have lost touch with her high school best friend, the one with the psycho military dad.

She'd gone for a refill of her coffee after dodging another box that Steve inadvertently dropped in his tinkering. His apology was muffled by even more boxes. Though the fumes soothed her and dulled the pain a little, she was going to have to wait until she was home with a hot and cold compress before she really felt better.

And she had to get away from Darcy.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I never agreed to go on another date with him?"

"I don't know," Darcy shot back. "When are you going to tell me one way or the other if you want to?"

"It makes no difference if I want to or not."

"Makes no difference? What have we been talking about all this time?"

"You're the one who keeps coming over here to bother me while I'm working. I only asked you today because I thought you could help me."

"Would you stop avoiding the issue?"

A knock at the side of the door silenced Jane's rebuttal (probably for the best; Jane hated going in circles). She turned to look at the woman hesitating in the doorway. She wore a black pencil skirt and a button up white blouse. She was quite pretty, with curly red hair that reminded Jane of Loki's attorney (though this woman lacked the air of knowing a thousand different ways to kill you), and perfectly applied red lipstick. Jane had to envy that, if nothing else.

"Excuse me," the woman said. Her accent was as heavy and British as Loki's was. "Sorry to interrupt. I'm just here for some coffee."

She held up a thermos as evidence, and Jane hoped the smile she offered wasn't marred by her mussed up hair and flushed cheeks.

"It's fine. My friend and I were just having a discussion about… some things."

"Important things from the sound of it," the woman said.

She stepped into the room amid Jane pushing her head into a cushion to contain her scream. Darcy had a few laughs on her account, and the redhead took the whole thing in stride the way only a British person could. She set about making herself a half caff and humming a song to herself that Jane had never heard before.

As she pulled herself back into a sitting position, it hit her that that wasn't the only thing she didn't recognize.

"Are you new here?" she asked the redhead. "Because I've been to every teacher's conference for the last few years, and I don't think I've seen you."

The woman chuckled. "No, you wouldn't have. I'm an English teacher at the junior high school across the street. My name's Peggy Carter, by the way."

She offered Jane a hand.

"Jane Foster," she said, shaking it twice. "Nice to meet you."

Peggy shook Darcy's hand in turn, even though she had yet to give her name. Darcy was informal like that.

"Why are you getting your coffee here if you don't work here?" she asked. Asking intrusive questions was what she did instead.

Peggy grinned, like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Well, the truth is a lot of us at the junior high like to sneak down here during our free periods for coffee runs. Yours is so much better than the cheap instant stuff we get. Just keep it to yourselves, okay?"

"No problem," Jane said, looking down at her own cup which was quickly starting to cool.

"I really hate having to do this every day, but it's certainly worth it," Peggy said, capping her full thermos. "You're all so lucky to have gotten a machine like this."

"No, not that lucky," Jane muttered.

Peggy shot her a questioning look, only for Darcy to butt in, mouthing 'guy trouble' in her direction. Peggy nodded, mouthing back 'oh, I see.'

Jane pushed Darcy back to her side of the couch.

* * *

"I think you should consider how you are going to introduce her to Mother and Father."

"That hadn't even crossed my mind," Loki answered.

It really hadn't. After the upset of learning that he hadn't entered the family in the way he thought he did, relations between him and his parents—Odin especially—had been strained. Or in Frigga's case, as strained as she would allow them to be.

Strained for her meant that she called him five times a week instead of every single day. It meant that the kids spent two weeks with her every summer at the family beach house instead of three. And it meant that he could expect her for afternoon tea every Friday afternoon at six sharp, instead of Saturday at noon.

Seven and a half years ago, she'd been beside herself with joy at the prospect of being a grandmother. If she heard today that Loki might have just found 'the one,' she'd have the wedding planned and the dress picked out before a second date even happened.

"You're getting ahead of yourself, brother," Loki said, and his next words he would have to choose wisely. "It is far too early in the courtship to think about assimilating myself into her life, and vice versa."

"Did he ask about Ms. Foster meeting Grandma?" Fenrir asked.

Loki scowled. So much for choosing wisely.

"We should invite her over this weekend!" Hela piped up.

"We already have enough going on without an extra guest," Loki said. "And Ms. Foster will surely have plans of her own."

"I don't know about that," said Fenrir, picking at his nails (a habit Loki was still working to break him of). "Far as we can tell, her only friend is that crazy party girl with the mood disorder."

"She doesn't have a mood disorder, Fenrir," said Jormungandr. "I would know."

"Listen, Egghead, I don't need to read Jung to know that there's no other reason for someone to be off the wall one second, and then on the floor crying over some guy the next."

"It could just be heartbreak," Hela suggested, earning a stare from her brother.

"Hela, you're such a girl."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah! Don't pull my hair!"

"Don't pull mine!"

"Hey!"

The two of them pushed away from each other, Fenrir into the car door and Hela into Jormungandr, as their father's voice cut through the tension and dulled the fight in them to nothing. The movie went on in the background, with the house flying through a storm that would ultimately ground it, and nobody paid it any mind. Thor could be heard stifling his laughter in Loki's ear.

"Disciplinary issues?"

Loki fumed. "You can talk now, brother, but someday, you'll have kids of your own, and it'll be your responsibility to break up their fights."

"Forgive me, but that day is a long way off. Until then, I'll have to keep observing you in action."

Loki smirked. "Then keep observing," he said with the greatest sincerity.

Because Thor wasn't the one who'd caught Sif on the phone with her doctor last week, pacing and holding a small, white stick in her free hand. His dear brother was in for a big surprise this weekend.

The streets mostly clear, baring a few grannies in tiny Toyotas and a tattooed fellow in a truck with spikes on top. He careened down the opposite end at breakneck speed, nearly grazing one of those granny cars in the process, and so Loki paid him no mind and gave all his attention to the motorcyclist coming in from the side.

He stopped abruptly at a red light, giving Loki several seconds less to hit the brakes than he would have liked. The kids hardly noticed, but it was more than enough for Loki.

"That's it."

He ripped off his seatbelt and tapped the bluetooth.

"Thor, I'll have to call you back," he said, and hung up without further explanation.

"Daddy, what's going on?" asked Hela.

"You three stay in the car." Loki slammed the door behind him and stalked to the discourteous man on the motorcycle.

* * *

"You know what I think?"

Darcy had been silent for five minutes straight. Thirty seconds more and she'd have set a new record.

At least she spoke quietly so that Peggy Carter couldn't hear.

"No, what do you think?" Jane asked wearily. She should've taken Coulson's advice and left ages ago.

"I think you and I have been going about this romance thing all wrong."

"Is that right?"

"Yup!" Darcy looked much too proud of herself for a temp who spent most of her free time loitering around an elementary school. "See, we keep getting into these intense, slow burn relationships that seem like they're going somewhere, only to fizzle out under the weight of difficult decisions and bad communication."

"Right," Jane said, though she'd like to argue that Don had no trouble at all communicating his feelings, and that was exactly why they broke up.

"So if I'm reading the signs, what they tell me is that we need a new approach to love that doesn't require any baggage."

"And your idea is?"

"Love at first sight."

If Jane had been drinking anything, there'd be a third stain. As it was, she sputtered enough that it got Peggy staring at her.

"Did you really just say that?" she hissed under her breath.

Darcy shrugged. "It makes sense to me. Think about it, you're at a party somewhere, or you're out shopping or hell, you're sitting on the front porch people watching, and you see this guy out the corner of your eye, and when you turn to look, you know instantly that this is the one. This is the person you're going to spend your life with. If you can figure that out right away, you avoid all the blood, sweat, and tears that goes into figuring things out through months or possibly years of dating, during which time you could meet some other person who gives you a flash in the pants that you mistake for a spark, and then you fuck the whole thing up with that first, potential soulmate guy, and then what? You're back to square one. With love at first sight, you can avoid all that noise. It's perfect!"

"It's also fictional," Jane said, bursting the bubble that was Darcy's fat, happy grin. "I get what you're trying to say, Darcy, but trust me, you'd have a better chance of finding a needle in a haystack than just one real life instance of love at first sight."

As she spoke, Steve had wrenched himself free of the closet once more, this time with the air pump in hand and a face full of triumph. He put back what he could and slammed the door before it could spill out again. He stepped into the open just as Peggy Carter turned to see who else was in the room.

Their eyes met.

Electricity surged.

Jane could feel it from where she sat, so powerful it was.

The two of them stared for a long time, like they had never before seen anything like the person before them. While Darcy hitched a breath and clutched painfully at Jane's leg, Steve broke the spell with a cough and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry, I just-" He swallowed. "I didn't mean to stare."

"Me neither," Peggy said with a dreamlike quality to her voice.

"I uh… um… I'm Steve. Rogers. Steve Rogers."

He held out a stiff arm that loosened when Peggy took his hand.

"Peggy Carter," she said. "Nice to meet you."

They let go after twenty seconds (Darcy counted), and then Peggy shifted on her two feet.

"Well, I- I should really be getting back to the junior high."

"I could walk you," Steve said quickly, and Jane couldn't believe it. She'd known Steve for two years, and he'd never been this bold with any of his female admirers (he had a lot of those). "I mean… it's kind of a walk, and it's cold outside."

_'Does he even own a warm coat?'_ Jane wondered.

Whether he did or he didn't, Peggy Carter sure didn't care. She walked out with him at her side, the two of them speaking in hushed tones about the joys of being teachers, and Steve's ambitions to one day leave the gym behind and enter the history classroom. The air pump he had fought so hard for lay abandoned next to the door.

As their footsteps faded away, Darcy could no longer contain the shriek building up behind her clenched feet. She jumped three feet in the air.

"FUCK YEAH!"

"That was a fluke..."

* * *

The motorcyclist looked the way Loki expected Fenrir to look like ten or twelve years down the line. He was tall—not as tall as Loki of course—with jet black hair down to his shoulders. He didn't wear a helmet, but dressed himself in mostly black, including a leather jacket (how cliché). He wore a pair of dog tags that swung in the wind and probably belonged to a relative, because this man did not look like the type to serve any country, let alone his own.

He ignored Loki at first. That red light was taking it's time turning green, but eventually it got to the point where he could no longer pretend he couldn't hear over the exhaust.

"Excuse me!" Loki shouted for the third time. He was right next to him now.

The man grumbled and turned, revealing a face Loki supposed women would consider handsome.

"Got a problem, pal?"

He sounded the way Loki would never allow Fenrir to sound ten or twelve years down the line.

"Well, I do not enjoy having to constantly contend with someone who not only doesn't know how to drive, but chooses to do so on what is essentially a death trap."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"That's rich coming from the guy who nearly ran me off the road ten minutes ago."

"Pardon me, I have done no such thing," Loki said through grit teeth. The nerve of this imbecile, thinking he could turn this around so it wasn't his fault.

"If you weren't so busy jabbering away on your phone and paid attention to where you were going, maybe you'd remember clipping me on the freeway."

"Assuming you're honest, which I highly doubt. "

"There's a scratch on the side of my bike if you want proof."

"Then how are you served by being a nuisance to me?"

"Pissed you off, didn't I?"

He wore a look of pure shit-eating belligerence that Loki was fully prepared to beat off of him. Had they not been on the road and surrounded by a dozen grannies, shaking like leaves and asking each other if they should call the police, he would have.

"All right," he said, with a syrupy smile. "I can see that you are not worthy of the time it would take to fight you."

"Could've said the same about you, suit."

The smile became a grin. "You speak as though you would win such a battle."

"Hey, buddy, my kid sister could take you, and last time I saw her, she was four foot ten."

"Oh, my friend, you have no idea who you are playing with right now."

"Sure I do: a putz in a suit. Not that hard to figure out."

"Yes, your fourth grade education has clearly worked wonders on your perceptive abilities."

"Well, I-"

"KICK HIS BUTT, DAD!"

Fenrir was halfway out of the car, held back by Jormungandr, whose small stature proved unsuited for restraining his bigger and stronger brother. To his credit, he hadn't given up yet.

"BEAT HIM LIKE A RUG!"

"Fenrir, _get back in there_," Loki shouted.

Jormungandr finally succeeded in pulling him back, Fenrir having let go of the window frame he was using for leverage. He was replaced by Hela, who rolled up the window but still gave herself room to press her face into the glass.

The motorcyclist clicked his tongue, his scowl having softened.

"You know what? Forget it. I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your kids." He revved up the engine. "See you around, suit."

He roared off into the early evening light, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake. Loki wasted no time staring after him. Some more people were coming up the road and honking like mad at his stationary Jaguar.

"Imbecile," Loki said, walking back.

"Who was that, Dad?" Jormungandr asked as he returned to the driver's seat.

"Nobody," Loki said tersely. "Sit down, all of you."

"I thought he was cute," said Hela.

"No, he wasn't."

Loki drove them down the street and off the main road on the path to their estate. It would be a good five minutes before they got there, so he dialed Thor back and waited two rings for him to answer.

* * *

On the other end of the street, the man on the motorcycle had stopped at another red light. His phone vibrated in his pants. He pulled off to the curb and fished it from his pocket.

"Hello… Steve! I thought you couldn't make calls when school's in session… yeah, I can talk… What? No, I'm fine. Just had to deal with some big shot in a suit giving me a hard time… No, I didn't get into a fight. Come on, that hasn't happened since college… Weren't we supposed to be talking about you? What's going on?... You met a girl? _When?"_

* * *

"I hope nothing is wrong." Thor sounded far too amused for his own good, but Loki would let it slide for now.

"Everything's fine," he said. "Just imbeciles who don't know the rules of the road."

"I hope you didn't get into a fight."

"I never get into fights, at least not on a whim." Loki turned left on the fork in the road that led to the house or the pool grounds. "Now, what were we talking about?"

* * *

"Darcy can't we talk about something else?"

Even on the way to the parking lot, Darcy just couldn't let it go.

"No way. You dragged me into this mess, and now I want a straight answer. You're gonna give it whether you like it or not!"

"Darcy," Jane moaned.

* * *

"Loki, I don't want to dance around the issue any longer, I'd like to know what you plan to do."

"How exactly do you mean?" Loki asked.

* * *

Darcy grabbed her, forcing her to stop walking. She looked at Jane with an even more severe expression than Jane had ever seen.

* * *

Thor paused, perhaps for dramatic tension, perhaps because his brain needed to catch up with his mouth. Either way, it takes a few seconds.

* * *

"Jane…"

* * *

"Loki…"

* * *

"Do you want to go out with him again?"

* * *

"When are you going to ask her out again?"

* * *

Jane shrunk.

* * *

Loki contemplated.

* * *

"I…"

* * *

"I…"

* * *

_"I don't know."_

* * *

On Wednesday, nothing happened, save for Hela waving at her from across the lunch and Jormungandr choosing The Princess Bride for silent reading time. Not that he could've known that was her favorite book from childhood, right?

Of course not. Just a coincidence.

On Thursday afternoon, they left a diamond encrusted bracelet on her desk, 'to go with the necklace,' their note said.

It was exacting on Jane, finding it like that. She really thought they were passed this. They'd even gotten slier about it, waiting until the last second to make the delivery, so that she wouldn't see it until long after class had been dismissed. Clever little buggers.

She vowed to give it back first thing Friday morning, the second they walked into the room. She'd even wait by the door if she had to. She didn't care in the slightest how it sparkled in the sun and really was a perfect match for the necklace (she only checked because she was bored), and she was too afraid to go online and try to figure out how expensive it was. She'd settle for 'inhumanely so' and call it a day.

Friday morning, they didn't show up. The memo on her desk from the attendance office told her they'd been kept home for 'family reasons' without a hint of specifications.

Didn't that just figure?

All it meant was that Jane would have to wait until Monday to see them, which meant two more days of staring at that stupid bracelet in its stupid black velvet box next to that stupid necklace. She wouldn't be able to stand it.

Their address was in her records, on a street Jane didn't know, but that she would wager had no other houses on it. The drive took her twenty five minutes, during which time she got lost three times. After the third time, she regretted shaking Coulson off at the ice cream parlor. She could have asked him for directions. When she did reach the house, she had to amend all her previous thoughts about it.

This wasn't a house, this was a castle.

It was literally a European style castle situated in a grassy field with an Olympic sized pool one acre away. Said pool was packed with people in swimsuits, including a blonde man with a bulky build who was throwing a slim, dark haired woman into the water. She responded by pulling him in by the leg.

Jane watched them, not really comprehending what she was seeing until she felt music pulsating from inside the house, classical from the sound of it, overlapped with dozens of voices talking over each other, their words incomprehensible, but carrying with them the good humor one hoped to expect from party guests.

She should probably have just gone home.

And she would have—she was halfway back to her car and everything—but the jewelry box was a heavy weight in her jacket pocket, about five pounds heavier than it should have been. It would only get worse the longer she had it. By Monday morning, she might have just 'forgotten' all about it like she had the necklace and the pen.

_'Five minutes,'_ Jane told herself on the walk back up the porch. _'I'm staying five minutes, returning the bracelet, and leaving. That's it.'_

She knocked three times. The door, at least, had a modern look to it. No windows, though. She couldn't look into to see if someone was coming.

After a minute of nothing, in which Jane decided and undecided to give up and leave several times, it hit her that she should probably try ringing the doorbell instead. It _was _pretty loud in there.

She pressed it, a happy jingle piercing through the noise and ringing in Jane's ears. She listened closely, repeating in her mind _'five minutes, five minutes, five minutes…'_

Some footsteps near the door grew loud over the music. A female voice:

"You've been working hard all day, Heimdall. Let me get it."

The door opened. A middle-aged and gracefully beautiful woman stood behind it. She had a fancy party dress on and strawberry blonde hair piled high atop her head. She appraised Jane without suspicion, but without moving to let her in either.

"May I help you?" she asked.

Jane cleared her throat. _'Just five minutes. Get it over with fast.' _"Hi there, my name is Jane Foster. I'm sorry to interrupt your party. I just needed to give something to Mr. Odinson, and then I'll be on my way."

"My son is downstairs right now with his friends. It might be some time before he is free to talk."

Jane nodded. Her calm face proved a decent front for the panic raising in her gut.

This was Loki's mother. His _mother_.

"I could leave it with you if that's easier," she said.

"Hmmm…" Mrs. Odinson's eyes on her had changed in ways Jane couldn't determine, and she didn't seem to hear what had been said. "What did you say your name was?"

"Erm- Jane Foster?"

It seemed unlikely to her that Loki would tell his parents about her after just one date, so it must have been the kids. They would tell the whole world if they could. Regardless, Mrs. Odinson's face lit up, and before Jane could speak a word of objection, she was wrapped in the taller woman's shockingly strong arms.

"Oh, my dear girl, you have no idea how happy I am to meet you!"

This was going to take a lot longer than five minutes.


End file.
